The Otter
by wintergirlsmith
Summary: Draco just wants to cover up the Dark Mark. Who knew Muggle tattoo artists were so insightful Dramione!


Draco Malfoy wanted a tattoo.

It had been two years since the final battle, and he'd just graduated Hogwarts, a year late. Everyone had repeated their year, as it was decided it wasn't really possible for anyone to have gotten a decent education with the Carrows running about.

Amazingly enough, he'd escaped Azkaban, along with his mother, although his father had not been so lucky.

Narcissa had been testified for by Harry Potter himself, and Potter, Weasley and Granger had also testified for Draco, much to everyone's surprise.

Draco looked at the Dark Mark on his left wrist. It was fading now, but still very much there, and he wanted the thing gone for good.

He knew what he wanted to cover it up with. He just hoped it didn't reveal too much. If it did, so be it. He'd grown weary of pretending.

He found a Muggle tattoo shop in London, a place he'd never have given even an absent-minded glance when he was younger.

The artist was a Gothic-looking woman with dyed-black hair and heavy eyeliner, with tattoo sleeves on both of her arms.

"Huh," she said when he told her what he wanted, "We don't get any people asking for those."

"It's a cover-up," he explained, showing her his wrist.

She nodded. "Got it when you were younger and dumber?" she asked conversationally, lining up the new tattoo to draw on first.

"Yeah, something like that," he murmured.

"So why this, of all things, to cover it up?" she asked, but not in a particularly nosy way, and Draco was working on his people skills.

"It's sentimental, actually."

She shot him a sly smile. "Special girl? Or boy? We're in a tattoo shop, I'd be the last to judge."

He gave a small smile. "A girl. Funny thing is, I used to hate her, when I was younger. Met her when I was eleven, and I was horrible to her. Called her all variety of names . . ." he didn't go on to discuss the things he'd let happen to her right in front of him. This was a Muggle stranger, after all.

"Ah, then if she's got any brains, she probably knew you liked her before you did. Boys tend to pick on the girls they like, after all," she replied as she began the tattoo.

"Definitely got those. They call her the brightest –girl of our age. At least, all the professors did –and still do. And it's true. I realized I lliked her in fifth year. Was still a git to her, though, didn't have another option."

"What d'you mean? Surely you coulda just told her then? Of course, if you were really that mean to her up until that point, I expect it would've come as quite a shock."

"Nah," he said, "my father would've never allowed it. He hated her."

"Hated? That's pretty strong. Any particular reason?"

Draco shrugged. "Mainly because of her parents, but also because she did better than me in school, so he couldn't say his son was top of his class. It doesn't matter now though, he's in prison."

"Oh, man. So are you together then? Please tell me there's a happy ending?"

Draco was glad he's used a numbing charm before coming, else he wasn't sure he'd be able to stand the pain of that needle drilling into his skin over and over.

He was silent for a while. "No," he said at last. "She's dating one of her best friends, and everyone expects they'll get married soon. Probably for the best anyway."

"Does she know how you feel?"

"She might suspect, but no, I've never told her."

"Well if you love her, you should tell her. Not to tell you how to live your life, but you'd regret it if you didn't."

He knew that was true, but he already had a lot of regrets. What was one more?

"I'm sure I should, but I don't want to interrupt her happiness."

"What if she loves you back though? And honestly, the worst thing that could happen is she doesn't."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he said mildly. "And if she loved me, I feel certain she wouldn't be with Ron."

"Maybe she's just with Ron, whoever that is, because everyone expects her to be. You should at least give it a try."

Neither Draco nor the tattoo artist spoke for a while after that, and Draco was starting to think Muggles were a lot more insightful than wizards gave them credit for.

"You might be right," he said, and the tattoo was almost finished.

"'Course I am. No one knows more about love than a suspicious tattoo artist in a London backalley. Anyway, I hope you decide to tell her. If someone loved me, I'd certainly want to know about it, in a relationship or not."

They finished up and he paid her. The skin around his new tattoo was bright red, and the numbing charm would wear off soon. Then he'd feel the sting.

She gave him a pamphlet on 'How To Take Care Of Your New Tattoo,' and sent him on his way with a kind smile and wise eyes.

...

Hermione saw the tattoo for the first time two weeks later, at a gathering held at Grimmauld Place. Draco, who'd grown a sort of companionship with Harry, had been invited, and Ron was being surprisingly civil to him, while Ginny was friendly as Potter.

Draco was sitting on the couch, nursing a firewhisky and watching with mild amusement at the antics of everyone around him, when Hermione Granger herself sat next to him.

"How are you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Well enough."

He'd made the mistake of wearing short sleeves, and his tattoo was completely visible. Hermione caught sight of it and gave a quiet gasp.

"An otter," she said.

He nodded. "I wanted to cover up that blasted Mark."

"My patronus is –" she began.

"I know," he cut in in a quiet voice.

She looked at him as if with new eyes, and didn't say anything for a while.

"You're probably wondering," he said, "If I made it that on purpose."

Hermione nodded.

"I did," he answered.

"I have some things to take care of," she said abruptly, before rising and leaving.

...

Two weeks later, Ron and Hermione's break-up was announced. Draco wondered if it meant what he hoped it meant.

...

Two years later, the birth of Rosalind Lyra Malfoy was announced, a baby girl with bushy blonde hair and dark gray eyes, who had her mother's intelligence and her father's cunning.

And to think, it had all started with an otter.


End file.
